Degrees of Guilt

Part One -- by Becky Ratliff

Authors Note: This story is
rated R for language. Danny Wolfe and the Wolfe Pack first appeared
in "An Echo of Yesterday." It would be best to read
that story first. It is available at the web sites listed below,
or contact the author via e-mail for a copy.

Special thanks to Mike Lee and
Claudia Patarra for all their help.

Sequence:

The Box
The Darkest Night
Promises to Keep
An Echo of Yesterday
Even Kittens Have Claws
The Newbies
Degrees of Guilt
A Very Merry Christmas

The characters and situations of
the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the
creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and
Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended.

All other characters not
belonging to Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and
Hard Eight Productions, are my creations and property. Permission
is hereby granted to use them in fan fiction, providing that the
author acknowledge my rights to them.

Quotation from "To Lucasta,
on Going to the Wars", by Richard Lovelace, 17th century
English poet, used without permission.

Degrees of Guilt

copyright Becky Ratliff, December
1996

USS Saratoga, October
2064

Glen Ross read the orders again.
"....return to active duty effective immediately upon
medical approval...." The whole thing came to less than a
page. No explanation, nothing to indicate any wrongdoing on
anyone's part. Just routine orders.

Well, he wasn't sure what else he
had been expecting. He probably wouldn't have suspected anything
himself when McQueen had been put on inactive status ... the man's
leg had been blown off in a bomb blast, for Christ's sake. If
Ross hadn't heard from some well-placed friends of his that
Aerotech had taken advantage of the situation to try to get
McQueen out of their way, he probably never would have suspected
treachery. Fortunately for McQueen, his CO wasn't above a little treachery
of his own in a good cause. Mark one problem solved.

At least he hoped so. What nobody
had counted on was the relationship that had developed between Ty
and Shane Vansen. Ross knew no matter what they felt for each
other, that relationship would not have gone anywhere ... except
that while McQueen was on inactive status, there hadn't been a
chain of command. He'd encouraged them himself ... any idiot
could see they were good for each other ... but now what?

Ross took the time for one deep
sigh before he summoned McQueen to his office. He hoped he was
the bearer of at least more good news than bad.

McQueen arrived five mikes later,
knocked at the hatch. Ross called, "Enter." Even after
all these years, everything they'd been through together, McQueen
still "reported as ordered". Ross met his eyes, neither
of them had to say a word as he passed the printout across the
desk.

McQueen read it. "Thank you,
sir. I'll see Mary about this as soon as I can." He gave
Ross a long, speculative look. "Just how did this miracle
come to pass, anyway?"

Ross couldn't help a
self-satisfied little grin. "Well, you know the first part
of it already. I had to call in some markers to get you assigned
to my personal staff rather than some academy in Lower Nowhere.
But not as many as you might think, you do have some highly
placed friends who would prefer to remain anonymous ... and given
the political uncertainties of the day, I cannot say I blame them.

Getting you reassigned to active
duty took a little longer ... but all I really had to do was to
call in a favor from a certain Master Chief Petty Officer at NAS Groombridge
... who knew another M-CPO at the Pentagon. What with the manpower
shortage, getting a clean medical evaluation into the right hands
was all it took for orders to come down from on high." Ross
turned serious. "How do you think Shane will take
it?"

"We've talked about
it," McQueen said. "There won't be a problem, we'll
make sure of that."

"There hasn't been a
problem. That wasn't what I meant." Glen's concerned tone shifted
the conversation from business to personal.

"She's as much a lifer
as I am, we know what we have to do to avoid risking our careers.
Look, Glen, we're not the only ones who've had to put our lives
on hold until after the war. And besides that ... whats
happened between the two of us is the best thing that's ever
happened to either of us, we want to do it right." A rare, unguarded
smile lit his eyes.

Ross nodded, he had
expected nothing different of either of them but he was relieved
that they'd come to their decision for reasons they could live
with.

McQueen paced the room,
paused to look at a picture of Ross' two littlest nieces. It was
a new one, they were riding tricycles in Glen's parents' back
yard. "Glen, where does this put me? An advisory post is
great for a non-active officer, but that won't cut it any more.
Where do we go from here? Do I get another squadron? Do I go back
to the 58th?"

Ross said, "Ty, if I'm
reading this right, the only thing that's changed is your military
status. I personally think you can get away with sorting it out
however you want to. They're trying to sweep this under the rug,
so they aren't going to argue with you over details." Ross
looked up. "Shane did not want command of the 5-8 when she
took it, circumstances backed her into a corner. But she's done a
damn fine job."

"Yes, sir."

"If another squadron
is what you want, God knows that I will do my best to make it
happen, Ty. That would clear the road for you and Shane -- you
deserve that, both of you." Ross wanted to stop right there,
but he forced himself to go on. "But since you've been
tactical advisor, our losses have dropped. A lot of kids have made
it back who wouldn't have if you had not been on the bridge ...
and in battle, I can concentrate on the Saratoga when I
know I have you there to handle tactical operations with the
squadrons. That made a great deal of difference both times we engaged
that hive ship. Im not there yet with Roberta Carey. Not
that Im saying anything about Captain Carey, its just
that she came over from the Ike after Demios, then Pete
gets sick, and now shes Air Boss before I really know anything
about her--"

"I know what
youre saying, Glen, and I know it isnt anything
personal about Captain Carey. But I doubt that I'll be accepted
in a position of this much responsibility on anything other than
an advisory basis," McQueen said. He looked across the desk
at his friend, after all these years they could read each other
fairly well. McQueen could see the wheels turning and suddenly he
figured out exactly what it was that Ross had in mind. It was a
lot more than the tactical-ops work he was doing now. "If
youre thinking Im going to be allowed to officially
command the Marine Cavalry Detachment, youre dreaming,
Glen!"

"You said something similar
about the Angels, as I remember," Ross pointed out. "They'll
accept you as Honcho. They'll damn well accept it, because
we need every advantage we can get to win this thing."

After he'd lost his leg in the
explosion, McQueen had put his command ambitions on the back burner,
concentrating just on staying in the Corps in the first place, and
then staying a few moves ahead of Aerotech. But what Ross was
proposing would put him back on track and then some. Commander of
the Marine Cavalry Detachment aboard the Saratoga -- CMCD,
or Honcho -- was the next logical step up from CO of a squadron.
It would mean a promotion to full bird colonel sooner, rather
than later or maybe never. On the other hand, it also increased
the likelihood that he and Shane would continue to be in a
chain-of-command situation after the war ended -- or assigned to
different carriers.

Anyway, considering that a few
months ago she had been under a threat of court-martial, and he had
been looking at a medical discharge, he wasnt complaining.
Shane was always telling him to cross bridges when he came to
them. That one was too far down the road to worry about
yet.

Glen said, "Ty, I've got a
big concern about this ... you know a situation could come up.
You'll be in charge of all the Marine squadron assignments ...
including the ones involving Shane. It could be a mission from
which she has little chance of returning."

McQueen looked up from the
orders, which he had been glancing over again. "I'm aware of
that, sir."

"I know you are, and I
haven't got the slightest doubt that -- God forbid -- if that situation
came up both of you would do your duty without any reservations.
But I do not want to put you through that!"

"Neither did Shane. She
volunteered to transfer out of the 5-8 right after we pulled her
and Damphousse off 2063-Yankee. But what would it change, sir? If
a mission like that came up, and she was the best person for the
job, she'd have to go whether the orders come from me or you or anyone
else. And if she didn't come back ... I'd still be right out
there with her, no matter what. Nobody gets a guarantee in this
life."

Ross nodded. He couldn't fault
that logic ... and nobody knew about guarantees better than Ty, that
was for certain. But Ty hadn't sent his kids on a suicide mission
... he'd gone with them. Ross had sent his best friend to die. He
stopped right there and said a silent little prayer that his
friend would never in a million years be put in that position
with Shane Vansen. "Ty, don't give me an answer now. Think
about it ... talk to Shane ...."

McQueen nodded. Ross watched him
leave, and felt a sudden desire to throw something across the
room. He felt as if he had betrayed his oldest and dearest friend.

*****

Vansen was in the office
alone when McQueen got down there. "My orders came through,"
he announced without preamble.

Shane asked,
"And?"

"I'm back on active as
soon as Mary okays it."

The same mixed emotions he was
feeling flickered across her expression. She leaned back in her chair,
and finally said, "It took them damn long
enough."

She listened as McQueen outlined
Ross idea. "If it works out, it means you stay C.O. of
the Wild Cards," he told her.

Shane nodded. "I can handle
that. Wow. This is too big an opportunity for you to pass
up."

"Itll stay a 'big
opportunity' after the war," he pointed out.

Shane frowned, but said, "I
know. Do you really want a nice, quiet desk job back home after
the war?"

"Hell, no. Not yet,
anyway." He hadnt even had to think about that
one.

"Then I dont know what
else were going to do about it. CMCD, Ty!"

"Im still not sure
itll happen. There are a lot of people who never wanted to
see a tank as a squadron commander. Theyll be a lot less
happy about this."

Shane acknowledged the truth in
that, but replied, "There are enough other people who care enough
about the Corps to want to see the best people succeed, whoever
they might be."

"Shane, you have a right to
know, there's another choice. The Commodore offered me command of
another squadron. If I were to do that, it's probably where I'd
be until I retired ...but I'm not sure that isn't exactly what I
want. No desk job, no politics. And there would be nothing to
stand in our way if I were to accept that offer."

Shane looked at him, for a moment
it was all she wanted. But she asked, "What do you
want to do, Ty?"

"What do I want, Shane, or
where does my duty lie?"

She laid her hand over his for a
moment. "I'll support whatever decision you make, love."

The love and loyalty in her eyes
were almost more than he could bear. "I dont know
where its going to leave us."

"Exactly where we thought it
would, at least until after the war. Cross that--"

"--Bridge when you come to
it! I knew you were going to say that, Shane."

She smiled. "So, do we have
tonight?"

He nodded.

.....If the night
belongs to lovers,
Then in this eternal night
All of time should be ours....

This time
together has been so sweet,
But I have learned....
Nothing is certain but change.

In the old
days, they would have said
We must live as sister and brother now.
I cannot think of you as that, my love.

I will look
in your eyes and remember passion there.
I will feel some casual touch of your hand,
And my body will ache for your caress.

Forever. I
will wait for you forever.
Duty is a poor substitute for your embrace,
But it will have to be enough.....

Shane saved
the file without adding anything else except the date, and put
her diary back in her locker. Nita and Lisa were sitting on
Lisa's bunk passing a well-worn magazine back and forth, trying
to figure out something new to do with Lisas straight,
black hair. She remembered a time when she and 'Phousse had done
things like that. Just yesterday they had been in basic
together!

For a moment, she
was a teenager again, as for the first time she was left alone in the
lifeguard tower. Seeing to the safety of the people on the beach
below was her duty. Once again she wondered if she was really
ready for the responsibility. She felt her lack of years and
experience. But this war had cost lives enough that she wasn't
the only one her age heading up a squadron.

Lisa and Nita made
no move to actively include her. She was their C.O., they didn't
know the back story. And, in the end, they and Jimmy and Kenny
were why things had to be the way they had to be. They put their
lives on the line to follow her orders. Because of what she was,
not who she was ... they looked up to her, respected her ...
trusted her.

Neither she nor Ty
had it in them to betray that trust ... and breaking the regulations
against fraternization would have been a betrayal, would have
been acting as though the same rules didn't apply to them. So,
tonight would be the last time for ... God only knew how
long.

Tomorrow was soon
enough to count the cost.

She felt a slow grin
spread across her face. CMCD had a hell of a nice ring to
it....

If, for Ty and
herself to be together, she had to change her own ambitions ...
her father had done that so that he and her mother could marry.
He had never regretted it, and now Shane understood that.

*****

It was a slow
evening at the Tun. Judy Ellison took a long draft from her beer.
"I'm telling you, TC, somebodys down there and it
aint the chigs," she said in a low voice.

"What makes you
think that?"

She scowled, shook
her head. "Nothing specific, but I know it. You
remember how ... nothing may be showing on your LIDAR right this
instant but ... if hes out there you know it?"

He nodded. "I
remember, Judy." There was nothing psychic about that ... it
was nothing more than an experienced pilot's ability to process a
lot of minor details in the background, and subconsciously come
up with the right answers. Really, it was one of the talents that
kept you alive long enough to become
"experienced."

"Well,"
she continued, "Someone's living on that rock. As soon as I
put my finger on why I know that...!"

McQueen thought
about it, and said, "Be careful, Judy, this is the kind of
system the pirates used to love ... lots of cover and plenty of
reliable wormholes."

"Sure, nine
tenths of them going directly to Chigsville," she replied,
savoring the taste of ice-cold Sam Adams after too many hours in
her cockpit. She shrugged. "My photo-interp pal is enhancing some
images I got, I'll see if anything jumps out at me ... if it
doesn't, I've got real work to do." But she still sounded
troubled.

"Whats
the matter, Judy?"

"TC, I think
it's a wildcat colony down there," she admitted. "You
know how it used to be, a lot of splinter groups sold everything
they had and booked passage on whatever flying coffin would transport
them off-world."

"I know, then
six months later we'd get a call for a rescue and pull off twenty
or thirty starving refugees ... or else we'd send down a burial
detail. Most of these idiots had no idea how to survive in an
alien biosphere. They thought if it was green with blue sky, it
was just like Earth ... and a lot of them were dead
wrong."

Judy nodded, he
wasn't telling her anything she hadn't already known. "Well,
I'm thinking ... this bunch was either smarter or luckier. But
I'm telling you, theyre down there."

"So why haven't
they picked up our skipchatter by now and hailed the Sara?"

She shook her head.
"Back-to-nature freaks? Like the ones who run around in the woods
naked and pound on drums to get back to their spiritual
origins?" She grinned irreverently.

He shook his head.
Those kind always seemed to have a comms shack, so they could
hail you and tell you to keep your stinking technology away from
their little corner of paradise. Crazy as McQueen thought they
were, they often put together successful colonies, because they
respected their environment and lived in harmony with it ... and
because their definition of "successful" was usually extremely
Spartan in anyone else's opinion. "If youre right
about someone being down there, it's possible that they
dont want to be found. If you've discovered some
kind of separatists, you'd better watch your six. Some of those
groups were fairly well armed, and they really hated the UN, as I
remember." He had a mental image of some terrorist tracking
Judy's Stingray through the sights of a rocket launcher.

Judy hadn't survived
her very dangerous job as long as she had by ignoring nasty possibilities
like that ... but she didn't concern herself about them either.
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "They were right,
in a real weird way ... we did end up with one world government.
Sort of. I haven't seen any black helicopters though, lately, have
you?"

McQueen studied the
bar lights through the amber liquid swirling in his glass. He wasn't
sure the black helicopter crowd had been completely wrong,
not with what he knew now about Aerotech. He didn't want to open
that can of worms this evening, however, so he just wisecracked,
"You know what they say, Judy ... just because youre
paranoid...."

"....Doesnt
mean they arent out to get you," she completed,
grinning. "Right, TC."

*****

McQueen was standing
at his viewport when Vansen got to his quarters that evening. She
paused to lock the hatch behind her before she joined him there. "What
do you see out there?" She asked quietly.

"Freedom,"
he said after a time. "In the mines, we never saw the sky.
When we boarded the cargo ship that took us off Omicron Draconis,
I looked out through a viewport and...." For once, words totally
failed him. He turned to her, there was an intense emotion
shining in his blue eyes that said everything words could not. "Shane,
can you imagine what that was like? There was all of infinity, right
there on the other side of that glass."

"The first time
I saw it from out here, it took my breath away. Ty ... they kept
you in the mine all that time? Until you were free?"

He nodded. "We
were decanted on the merchantman that took us out there from Alaska.
I dont remember much about that. It takes a few weeks ... I
was already working in the mine by the time I knew where I
was."

Shane held him
close. "The rest of us will never understand fighting for
freedom ... not the way that you and Anita do. You know what
freedom is, and what its like not to have it."

He nodded. "You
understand fighting for your family. I didnt ... until that
time I saw Danny Wolfe holding you at gun point."

Shane said,
"You wait until its a little one. If anyone ever tried
to lay a hand on Marion or one of my sisters, I could kill him
without thinking twice. And if I'm that protective towards them,
what parents must feel about their children!"

" 'Wait'.
Shane, you know...."

She looked at him,
and finally said, "One of my foster fathers wasn't able to
have children. I don't understand how exactly, but they
fertilized one of his wife's eggs with some of his DNA. My foster mom
said that kind of thing was pretty common after the fertility
plague. I'm sure theres got to be something--!"

"Amy was so
against it that I never looked into it that much."

"Well, when
it's time, we'll look into it," Shane said. She kissed his
fingers as he stroked her face.

"I love you,
Shane."

"I love you.
Always, Ty. This thing will work itself out, we'll still be
together."

He kissed her.
"Always," he whispered against her lips, and then they
kissed again. For a long time, nothing else in the universe was
of any importance except each other.

Shane held him close
and said softly, "Oh, God, what have we got ourselves into? How
are we going to live without this? I think it would be easier to
give up breathing!"

"I know,"
he comforted her quietly. "But we can do whatever we have to
do, to get the job done. We have all our lives,
Shane."

She nodded, as
always finding his strength enough and more when her own failed. For
now, she didnt want to think about tomorrow. They had
tonight.

*****

Ross stared at
Ellison's photos. "How many of them do you figure are down there?"

"Well, I
counted about thirty houses. Figure a family of three to five
people to a house ... thats ninety to 150 of them.
Personally, I'd guess that the figure is higher, because that
doesn't count the old folks, and these wildcat colonists tend to
go forth and multiply. Also, the size of the herds of cattle and
the area of cultivated fields would indicate a larger
population."

"Right ... so a
lot of the population will probably be children."

McQueen said,
"We don't have a very big window to get those people
offworld before this system turns into a battleground. The chigs
will have to try to take this planet to keep it out of our hands, they
know we need it for a staging area."

Ross said,
"You're right, Colonel. Take the 5-8 and a medical team, go
down there and assess the situation. I hope those people have the
sense to pack up their suitcases and line up to climb on the transports.
If they do, we'll start pulling them offworld immediately. If
they don't, for the sake of the kids in the colony, I'm prepared
to put the whole place under martial law and take them off by force.
Ty, if the colonists do refuse to cooperate, then make sure we do
this right the first time. I don't want a Jonestown, if this
colony turns out to be some kind of fanatics."